by Amy Braun
So I just stayed silent and stared hatefully at the father and son. Emilio didn’t have a mark on him. There wasn’t even a speck of dust on his fancy black pants. Mateo looked a little rougher around the edges. His shoulder was back in place, but his dark hair was mussed and sticking out, dirt and tiny scratches covered his black suit, and a bruise was forming on his jaw from where I’d kicked him.
Mateo stared at me with a mix of disappointment and distress. It only made me angrier. He wasn’t the one who had been betrayed. He had no right to feel anything at all. As I looked at him through one and a half eyes, my sore heart thumped slowly. I couldn’t tell if it was because he’d broken my heart, or because I hated him down to the core of my soul.
“This isn’t going to work,” Mateo said, flexing his knuckles and staring at my blood on them. “She isn’t going to give Dro up.”
“Yes she will,” Emilio said. “She just needs to understand how serious this is.”
He walked toward the left wall and started rifling through items left no the table. I listened to the heavy clatter of tools and sharp blades as Emilio looked for something more his style. I tilted my head down as gently as I could, my sweat-soaked hair sticking to my forehead.
The zip ties around my wrists and ankles were so tight I was almost losing circulation. They’d already cut into my skin from where I’d pulled on them, and I couldn’t risk severing a vein. There was no way I could escape.
The light clip-clop of Emilio’s shoes made me lift my head. A sharp bolt of pain ripped down the back of my neck. I winced at it, my eyes starting to widen as I saw the hacksaw and the c-clamp. All my pain turned into fear. I’d seen this torture before.
He would take the hacksaw and start to slice off an appendage. Usually, he started with the hands. He sawed slowly, making sure the victim felt the pressure and wrenching agony of the saw. It was impossible not to see the flesh being savagely shredded away, dark blood squirting and gushing out as veins and arteries were severed.
But he didn’t cut all the way to the bone. Not to start. He stopped after a couple cuts, and then the clamp came into play. He would tighten it around a finger or toe, then pull as hard as he could.
Usually it wasn’t enough to rip the hand off, but the victim wouldn’t know that. All they would feel is the searing agony as Emilio pulled their skin hard. It wouldn’t be long before he pulled too much, and dislocated a finger from its socket.
If they still didn’t talk or were too busy screaming, it was back to the saw.
Emilio reserved this torture for people he wasn’t just angry at. This was something for people he despised. The ones he wanted to suffer with every waking breath.
I didn’t know if I could take it.
I turned my head away as he slowly walked closer, each step sending new waves of terror through me. I squirmed in the chair, no longer caring that I might cut myself on the zip ties and bleed to death. It would be better than what Emilio was going to do.
I froze when I felt the jagged edges of the hacksaw on my wrist, just above where they were tied to the arms of the chair. My heart smashed against my ribs so hard it made my entire body shake. I couldn’t control my breathing. Emilio was as calm and as cool as a stone.
“This is your last chance, Constance,” he warned flatly. “Tell me where your sister is.”
The smart thing would be to tell the truth. Torture broke everyone sooner or later. But I knew Emilio. I’d been working for him for four years. The second I told him what he wanted to know, two things would happen. First, he would send all the Blood Thorns to find Dro. And they would find her. His network was enormous.
Second, he would torture me to death. Giving him information wouldn’t keep him from punishing me for killing his bodyguard, attacking his son, and letting my sister escape.
There was no way to win.
He pressed the hacksaw down on my wrist until the jagged tips were pressed into my flesh. I winced as new blood flowed out around the zip ties. He tightened his grip on the handle of the saw. His eyes were black holes in the dim light of the basement.
“Remember that I gave you a choice,” Emilio whispered. His voice held promises of pain.
My breath hitched as a scream built in my throat.
“Wait.”
We both looked at Mateo. He was staring at my hand, desperation in his eyes. He looked at his father, that desperateness quickly fading away.
“I have an idea.”
“You had time for ideas, Mateo. We’re going to do this my way now.”
Emilio pressed the hacksaw harder into my wrist. I winced as the serrated edges sank in, like a vampire slowly sinking its fangs into its prey.
“There’s another tactic we haven’t tried yet,” Mateo said quickly. Emilio and I looked at him again. “Let me talk to her. Alone.”
Emilio scowled. Then he straightened and walked over to his son. I slumped with relief as the hacksaw came out of my arm. My entire hand was covered in streams of blood and throbbing like it had just been smashed with a hammer, but it was still intact.
My chest heaved rapidly, unwelcome adrenaline making my ears pound. I tried to steady my breathing, but I couldn’t focus.
Mateo looked at the wall near the door, a sign that he wanted to talk to his father where I couldn’t hear. I groggily dropped my head, letting them assume I was too focused on my pain to listen to what they were saying. I felt their fierce glares on me, then heard them walk across the room and start to whisper. Their voices were so faint that I had to lean forward in my chair to hear them.
“You really think talking will work with that traitor?” Emilio remarked quietly. “She isn’t the type that can be reasoned with.”
“Not by you,” Mateo replied. “But with me.”
Emilio stifled a laugh. “I doubt that. Your judgment is clouded when it comes to her. Your feelings will get in the way.”
He took a step closer to his father and lowered his voice. “No, that’s exactly what will make her talk. Trust me, Dad. I’ll make her understand. I can do this.”
Mateo looked at me. I dropped my head before he could see I was listening to what he was saying. Rage went through me like an electric shock. He still thought I cared about him enough to give up my little sister because he would ask nicely.
The bastard never knew me as well as he thought.
“Fine,” Emilio said impatiently. “Try it your way. But when she refuses to tell you anything, I’m going to do it my way. And you will not interfere.”
Mateo paused. He was the only person in the world who could actually negotiate with Emilio, but even his son knew there was a point where he couldn’t stand in front of his father.
“Yes, sir,” Mateo said.
Emilio shoved the torture devices against Mateo’s chest and stormed out of the room. It suddenly seemed too quiet. I kept my head hung low as he walked back to the left wall. He dropped the tools onto the table, then fumbled around for something. Mateo might want to talk to me, but torture wasn’t beyond him either.
I was mildly surprised when he put a chair down in front of me with a white cloth and a first aid kit. I said nothing as he opened the kit and took out a bottle of peroxide. Mateo poured some of the peroxide onto the cloth and reached up for my face.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I hissed.
He pulled back a fraction, looking hurt. For a second, he looked like the Mateo I had loved, heartfelt and emotional. Then his dark eyes hardened, and he became the Mateo I hated.
“I’m trying to keep you from getting an infection,” he shot. “Why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?”
“Don’t blame me for this. It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t ratted Dro out to that bitch.”
Mateo flinched, now knowing I’d heard him talking to Isabel.
“What did she promise you? Power? Strength? A harem of fuckable teenagers? All of the above?”
He glared, clutching the peroxide-soaked cloth tighter.
“I can’t believe you bought into that shit, that you’re some chosen one for a divine purpose. You don’t know a lie when you hear one– ah!”
Mateo shoved the peroxide soaked cloth onto the cut on my cheek. I winced as the peroxide seared my open wound. It was a torture in of itself. I was able to breathe through it until it was over, though my eyes were watering when I opened them.
I turned my head to meet Mateo’s eyes. He frowned, reaching out to grab the nape of my neck. I tried to pull free, but he jerked me closer. His grip was an iron vice on my neck. I flinched again as he wiped away blood and spread peroxide around my face.
My entire head started to burn. Tears spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them. I gritted my teeth until it hurt, trying to tear myself away from his hand.
“Stop moving, damn it,” Mateo growled. “I’m trying to help you!”
Hatred filled me again. I was done with all this pain and his lies. My sister was out there alone and worried sick. I had to get to her before she decided to come looking for me. I snapped and tried to bite Mateo’s hand.
He jerked back before my teeth could get him. He stared at me with shock, his face turning darker as he grimaced. His fingers curled into a fist, and he arched his arm to hit me. I stared at him and waited for him to do it.
Mateo sighed and dropped his arm instead.
“Why the fuck are you making me do this, Constance?” he whispered. “I hate hurting you. Stop making me.”
Mateo sounded so pitiful I almost felt bad for him. If I’d seen him like this yesterday, I would have done anything and everything to comfort him. But that had all changed now. There was no forgiving what he’d done.
“Nobody’s making you do anything, Mateo,” I replied. “You’re doing this because you want to.”
His head snapped up. “I have orders–”
“Which you break all the time,” I reminded.
I didn’t expect my voice to crack the way it did. That was when I had to know why he’d done it. Why he’d been so eager to give my little sister to Isabel.
“Why?” I forced myself to ask.
Mateo looked at me sadly. He knew exactly what I was talking about. He just didn’t want to answer me. When he reached out with the peroxide to clean my face again, I let him.
“She said I was chosen to serve her master, and that if I did as he wished, we would have the future we all wanted,” he answered. “The Thorns would take control of Mexico, we would move the organization up into the States. Dad would have no restrictions. No one would be able to touch him. And I...”
Mateo raised his eyes and I remembered why I’d fallen in love with him. Deep, dark brown eyes glittered with strength, passion, and life. He refused to let anything or anyone stand in his way. Not even me.
“She said I would be able to make you mine forever. You’d only love me, and no one else.”
Breath squeezed out of my lungs. My heart started cracking again.
“You were going to give up my sister because you thought I would stop loving you?”
“Dro never liked me and never trusted me,” he argued. “She wanted you to see the worst in me. She wanted to break us. I couldn’t let her do that, Constance. I love you too much.”
He meant every word. I was the reason he woke up in the morning, what he dreamed about at night. I was his whole world. Any other time, I would have killed to hear those words.
Now I just felt hollow.
“Look me in the eye and tell me you never would have left,” he said.
I could see the pleading in his eyes. This was him asking me to give up my sister. This was his attempt to save me from more pain. He was angry with me, but he was willing to forgive it all if I gave in. After everything he’d done to me, he still thought I would love him enough to forgive him. Mateo had complete faith in me.
So I destroyed him.
“You’re right,” I admitted. “I would have left. Dro didn’t like it here, and I would go because she asked me to. But I would have taken you with me, Mateo. There would have been time for her to see the good in you. We could have made it work. But instead, you were selfish. You were blind and jealous. You forgot how much Dro means to me, and you betrayed all the trust I ever had in you.”
Mateo leaned away slowly. I watched the pain spread across his face. I was breaking his heart. Good. It was the only way I could get him out of my life. I wasn’t anything like him. I wouldn’t betray someone I loved to get ahead in life. Even if I could stomach it, Emilio wouldn’t buy my story for a second. He’d hound me until he discovered what I was up to, and then I would be tied to this chair again with no one to stop him from cutting my hands and feet off.
“I loved you, Mateo. I would have given you that dream you wanted. But not anymore. I will never love you again, and when I get out of here, I’m going to rip all your dreams to shreds.”
He was frozen in the chair, clutching his chest like it was wounded. I knew how badly he was hurting, but none of it changed my expression or made me feel sorry for him. Mateo was prepared to let my sister suffer so he could have me to himself, completely forgetting that she was the biggest part of my life. He disrespected me in the worst way imaginable, and acted like it wouldn’t matter if she were gone as long as we were together.
If he’d had a younger sibling, maybe he would have been different. But it didn’t matter now. I wouldn’t take back what I said. He searched my eyes, hopelessly trying to find anything that might prove I still loved him.
Except that I didn’t. I looked at him blankly, without any emotion. Finally, the reality set in. Mateo closed the first aid kid, refusing to look me in the eyes. He stood up from the chair and began to walk out of the room. Just when he was at the door, he stopped and turned his head to the side.
“My father is going to kill you, Constance,” he said heavily. “He’s going to torture you to death. I don’t know how, but he’ll make it last. You’re going to beg for me to save you.”
Mateo turned to look at me. His eyes shimmered, but his face was hard.
“And I’m not going to be there.”
The man whose heart I demolished walked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. I couldn’t feel anything. I tried, but there was an emptiness inside me. It would never be filled again. I wouldn’t let it.
That was fine, because I wasn’t going to live much longer...
Chapter 13
I ran into Max just as I got to the room where Dro was staying. He was shocked to see me, and his cheeks turned red. I crossed my arms.
“Do I need to be concerned about my sister’s honor? Because I promise you, I’m ready to fight for it.”
Max flinched, then shot me a pointed glare. “Give me a break, Constance. It wasn’t like that.”
I scanned his eyes, looking for guilt. There was none, at least not from him. Max loved and respected Dro. He would never push her into doing something she wasn’t ready for. I felt a little bad for the harshness of my teasing, but if Max wasn’t used to my attitude by now, he never would be.
Rather than apologize, I went with a standard icebreaker. “How are you feeling?”
He shrugged. “Oh, you know, nearly having my head explode is a feeling I’m starting to get used to,” he grinned.
I wasn’t able to smile. “Look, Max–”
He waved me off. “Forget it. I didn’t do it for you.”
That got me smiling after all. I glanced at the door. “She’s inside?”
Max hesitated. “Yeah, but she’s asleep. You might want to come back later.”
I shook my head. “She’s awake. Dro can’t sleep when she’s mad.”
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to see her, then?”
No. “I’m not having this go on longer than it has to, Max. It’s between us. Seph’s waiting for you in the training hall.”
Max paused, like he didn’t want me to see my sister, but he knew by now that nothing would keep me from her. He held the door op
en for me so I could walk into the room. My little sister was sleeping on her side, her white braid draping down her back.
“Good luck,” Max said quietly.
“I’m not going to hurt her again,” I said.
“It’s not her I’m worried about.”
I turned my head to Max, but he was already closing the door and leaving us inside. The room was dark except for the lamp in the corner. This room looked identical to the one I was borrowing. I took a deep breath and walked toward the bed. I kicked off my boots and climbed on top of the sheets, resting my back against the headboard next to her.
After a long time, I asked, “How mad are you?”
She didn’t say anything, but I saw her tighten her arms over her chest. “On a scale of one to ten? Eleven.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry for whatever I did, okay?”
“No you’re not.”
I looked at her as she finally rolled over to face me.
“You say that, maybe you even believe it, but you’re not really sorry. You always put yourself in danger when you know better.”
So that’s what she was mad about. Me literally putting myself in Lucifer’s line of fire, and almost dying in the process.
“I’m your big sister. I’m supposed to do stuff like that.”
She shot up into a sitting position, icy blue eyes furious. “Don’t use that as an excuse.”
“It isn’t–”
“Yes it is,” she snapped. “I had it under control. I didn’t want you getting hurt.”
“It didn’t look like you had it under control,” I muttered before I could stop myself. I winced at Dro’s harsh expression.
“Because you did so much better. What was your plan, big sister? Stab the Devil and hope he would die before he could strike back?”